The Song Game
by John Faina
Summary: On top of the fact that Wilson can't sleep, he hears something fairly peculiar...


**Note: I literally got up in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep and wrote this. That is probably why it will be...terrible. Not to be taken at all seriously! It's just sort of cute I suppose. Oh! And by the way, every song mentioned is, in fact, a real song. The one referenced first you can easily find on Youtube if you type in "Wilson". Performed by a band called Phish I believe. I heard it a while back and happened to think of it the other day and, you know, wah lah!**

**Disclaimer: I own not a one of these songs.**

"_Wiiiiilsoooon..."_

"_Wiiiiiiilllsooooon..._"

"_Wiiiiiiiillllsoooooon!_"

Wilson furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of what seemed to be a crowd of people chanting his name like some sort of voodoo ritual. Underneath the noise, he could distinctly hear his best friends gravelly voice chanting along with them. What the hell...? With a heavy sigh of frustration that he did not really feel (he was really very curious), he threw back the covers on his bed, swung his legs over the side, and stood, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

"_Wiiiiilllsoooooon!_"

Shaking his head, he padded across the master bedroom to the door. Opening it, he continued out into the hallway, where the chanting grew louder. He could now hear music accompanying...a little guitar...a few drums...people cheering. He stepped into the living room. House was lying on the couch, balancing his laptop across his middle, his arms bent into odd positions to be able to reach the mouse pad. He didn't notice Wilson enter the room because he was facing the opposite wall, bobbing his head to the drum beat. Very quietly, Wilson crept up behind him, peering over his head to see what could possibly be on the screen. It turned out to be footage from some concert or other, showing what appeared to be the lead singer of some band or other, jamming out on guitar. The crowd was not visible, but it was obvious there was one by the amount of noise it was making for this guy. It no longer chanted "Wilson!", which he supposed was the guy's name; no, now it was simply cheering like wild. The guy began to sing.

"Would it be egotistical of me to ask why you bothered to watch this video if I already know the answer?" Wilson asked, causing House to throw his head back against the armrest, staring up at him in slight surprise. Then he grinned.

"_Wiiiiilsoooooon_!" he shouted triumphantly.

"Shh!" he said, gesturing. "There are people in this building who actually sleep at this hour."

House simply smiled at him. "Great news. I found your new ringtone."

Wilson didn't have it in him to pretend to be annoyed at being woken up in the middle of the night. He'd never even fallen asleep in the first place, having been too wound up from work that day. Two of his terminals had passed within hours of each other, and, try as he might to forget about it, telling himself there was nothing more he could have done, he just couldn't. He smiled right back, however, and replied, "I don't have to be the Dancing Queen anymore?"

"I guess not," House answered, frowning. He turned his attention back to the computer screen, clicked pause as the lead singer guy was rattling off about living alone in Stonehenge, and shifted the laptop from his stomach, onto the coffee table. "But you'll always be Dancing Queen in my heart." He sat up. Wilson walked around the couch and had a seat next to him, rubbing his eyes.

"It would make more sense if 'Wilson' were _my_ ringtone for you," he said.

"Hm..." House hummed, pretending to contemplate this idea. "I like it. Then I'll assign you 'Burning Down the House.'"

Wilson smirked. When he had been in high school, he had gone through an intense Talking Heads phase. But he would never admit that to House, who would most likely take the mickey out on him for it for weeks. "You're saying that I...set you on fire? I know I'm hot, but - "

"_That_ was egotistical," House interrupted, glancing at him. Wilson chuckled, leaning his head back against the couch comfortably. His bare foot unintentionally brushed House's on the floor.

"There are a lot of songs that remind me of you," he stated conversationally.

"Really."

"Yes."

"You're probably about to name a load of bubble gum pop, techno, electronic crap songs, right?" House asked nonchalantly, but Wilson detected...worry? Was this going to be a repeat of that gift he'd given him a couple of years ago? He'd figured out the reason, on his own, after thinking rather hard about it when he'd discovered that it had taken House a year to open that present, and, in the end, it hadn't even been him who opened it, but Taub. After reading that note he'd attached to the gift, House hadn't wanted to know what Wilson, the most important person in his life, thought about him. Well, he couldn't let House drown in misery like that again...so, instead of jokingly suggesting the theme song to Barney, he decided to be serious. Because there _were_ songs that actually reminded Wilson of his best friend. Many of them.

"No..." he said slowly. "I was going to say something like...'Behind Blue Eyes.' Do you remember that one?"

House blinked his blue eyes at him, and nodded curtly. So Wilson lost his nerve.

"And you often make me wanna 'Walk Like a Camel.' Just saying."

There was a pause, and then House burst out laughing. Wilson laughed with him, relieved that they wouldn't have to fall into that emotional ditch and ruin a nice...morning? This was nice. They hadn't had a normal, meaningless conversation in months...since before Cuddy and Sam and all that useless turmoil they'd put themselves through.

"'My Life Would Suck Without You,'" House managed after the laughter had died down a little.

"What?" Wilson asked, still grinning like an idiot.

"A song I heard the other day," House explained. "It fit us to the bill."

"Isn't that like a relationship song?"

"We _have_ a relationship," House said, as if that were the most obvious fact in the entire world.

"Oh, okay. Right. 'Tale As Old As Time' then."

House chuckled. "'I'd better not be the beast. 'Cause you're definitely not the beauty. 'Happy To Be Stuck With You.'"

"Wow. I haven't heard that song in years..." Wilson said, unable to keep himself from smiling. Simply sitting here with House, joking around - even if it was at an unusual and unconvenient hour - was fun he hadn't had in a long time. And he certainly needed it. "Uh...the theme to the Golden Girls."

House tried not to laugh. Wilson could see a muscle working in his cheek. "Oh, I'm gonna get you back for that...Aha! 'Brown-Eyed Girl.' And, yes, I am implying - "

"'Happy Together,'" Wilson interrupted triumphantly. He really had no reason for that particular song to have jumped into his mind. Well, he did, but -

"'Let's _Stay_ Together,'" House shot back.

"'Let's Give 'Em Something to Talk About,'" Wilson managed, after a short pause during which he played House's suggestion quickly in his head, and imagined a dark room lit only with candles...he bit his tongue painfully.

"'Waiting On a Friend,'" House said with a lilt in his voice, as if it wasn't _his_ fault they'd never given 'em something to talk about.

"'Girlfriend,'" Wilson responded, shrugging his shoulders. "But 'Back To You,' right?"

House swallowed. "After Amber...'Don't Speak.'"

Wilson shook his head, wishing that whole thing had never even happened. "'Back To You,'" he insisted.

"'Far Away...'"

Wilson shook his head again. "'Head Over Feet' House."

"Are we...'Accidentally In Love?'" House asked, staring at him.

Wilson inhaled, staring straight back. "'Falling For You,'" he eventually replied.

"I had 'Faith,'" House said quietly, his eyes filled with a sort of wonder that made him seem almost childlike. This was not the first time Wilson had seen this look, but he never just dismissed it. He remembered being woken up by House to the opening chords of "Faith" one morning, and smiled softly. Then, House uttered another song title that caused his heart to stutter.

"'Desire,'" he whispered, his eyes now trailing over Wilson's features, and coming to rest upon his lips. Wilson brushed House's foot with his own purposely, running it up his ankle.

"'Kiss Me,'" he whispered back.

House crashed into him, pressing their lips together, holding his face in both hands, stroking firmly. Wilson thrust his tongue into his mouth, making up for the breath he'd lost by taking House's.

This was by far the best game they had ever played.


End file.
